


Sleepy Time

by chirusse



Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: Dreams, Dreamsharing, Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:59:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chirusse/pseuds/chirusse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based of off the Spongebob episode of the same title. Sateriajis Venomania travels through the dreams of his friends, the other six sins. Trouble ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepy Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is work was requested anonymously my roleplaying blog.

A lithe hand held the silver goblet to a pair of plush, moist lips. They parted, and red wine was spilled into the waiting mouth of a gentleman.

Sateriajis Venomania was lounging in the center room of his quaint home, lavender pillows piled together, and four women caressing his face, chest, and hair. Pulling one of the women closer, Venomania kissed her ardently. She clutched at his face, holding their bodies together until oxygen deprivation forced them back apart. No sooner had they parted, another woman fought for Venomania's lips, and pushed the first girl out of her way.

"Ladies, there is certainly enough of me to go around. You needn't fight each other," Venomania said, grinning a devious smile. The two women who were previously fighting looked at one another with tight lips.

"If you cannot agree to get along, then I will have no choice but to dismiss you and find someone else to entertain me for the night," he warned. The women's mouths loosened considerably, and they busied themselves pleasuring Venomania once more.

He leaned back on the cushions, lying so that the women had free range of his torso. The two women who had been competing for attention, a brunette and a blonde, ran their hands through his long, purple locks. The other women, another brunette and one with black hair, contented themselves with massaging the Venomania's chest and arms.

Suddenly, three of the women were whisked away, disappearing as if they were made only of air. Only the blonde one remained, still running her fingers over Venomania's forehead and hair.

"Where did they-?" Venomania sat up, eyebrows drawn together, and searched the room for some sign of where the women had gone. His companion scooted back to wrap her arms around his neck.

"No matter. They will miss the best part, I suppose," he mused, refocusing on the remaining lady. He brushed a strand of hair from her brow, and paused at her hairline.

A strand of blue hair was peeking out from her scalp.

Venomania recoiled, jerking back as if a hot iron had burned him.

"Y-You!" He struggled to form a coherent sentence. The girl before him had transformed into a young man with azure hair.

"So… we meet again, Venomania. " A sneering Kachess Crim was before Venomania, where the beautiful woman once was. Venomania did not wait for Kachess to make a move or state his business. He stood and made a break for it, crashing through a window of his house, and right into a familiar room… his own bedroom.

A miniature, glowing Venomania was standing in the middle of his bedroom, staring at his own sleeping body.

"How- Am I still dreaming? Is that my dream up there? And how-?" Venomania wondered aloud, staring up into the dream cloud he had just fallen out of. "I cannot scale the bed at this size." The bed before him was at least five times his height, and the climb would be nigh on impossible.

"There is not any way that I could…" His eyes scanned the room for an object to help him back into the dream cloud, until they settled on his open bedroom door.

"I wonder…" Venomania crept across the room and down the hall to his roommate's room, and slipped under the door.

In a room of varying shades of crimson and rust, another dream bubble floated within jumping distance of Venomania's current position.

"She must have fallen asleep on the floor." He crouched low and jumped, propelling himself into the dream bubble.

In a room with fantastically high ceilings, rows and stacks of all sorts of delicacies and gourmet foods were the most prominent structures that lined this dream bubble. Dead center, a young woman with brown hair was gorging herself, lounging on a vermillion chaise. The ruby dress she was wearing was stained in juices, and the floor around her was littered in fruit peelings, seeds, and dirty dishes. Venomania approached the woman, kicking some food out of his path.

"Enjoying yourself, Banica?" Banica Conchita looked up from the pasta she was devouring, tomato sauce painting her face so that it looked stained with blood.

"Evening, Sateriajis! I didn't expect to see you at my feast. Come to have a little taste?" Conchita picked up a nearby quiche and waved it at him.

"No, no, I'm quite content at the moment, thank you." Venomania shook his head at her offer. "Do you dream this sort of thing usually?"

"Oh, all the time, Sateriajis! It's the best way to find out what I want to eat the next morning." Banica's voice rose in pitch and she turned to taste the quiche she had just offered.

"How do you not become sick? Eating day, and apparently, night?" He took a seat on the end of the chaise, trying to avoid the largest stains on the fabric, which would, no doubt, transfer themselves to his fine trousers.

"I don't get sick. Actually, I really never feel full enough." Some melted cheese from the quiche was stuck on her fingers and made spidery tendrils from Banica's nails to the dish. "But sometimes," she let out a dramatic sigh, "I just get so tired of the same things day after day." She licked the cheese and looked over at Venomania. "Don't you know what I'm talking about?"

"I can related, yes," he mused. "I find myself never completely sated with my lovers whenever we decide to have our fun." Banica scooted towards him, licking her lips.

"There's especially this one type of food that I'd like to try." She touched Venomania's hair absentmindedly, rolling a few purple strands between her fingers. "It's a little expensive, though. I wouldn't dream of tasting it while awake. That's why I'm so glad you're here."

Venomania tensed under her touch, unsure of how to respond. His roommate's tastes had always been on the obscure side, teetering into the macabre. "Banica…" His voice was admonitory, and he stood to distance himself from her.

"What's wrong, Sateriajis?" Her eyes flashed and she stalked forward. "Going so soon?"

"I'm afraid our time together has come to an end," Venomania climbed onto one of the mountains of food, and soon the woman was following him.

"Don't go! Just a taste!" Dishes loosened from the pile under the weight of the two climbing, until Venomania stopped at the top of the dream cloud. With a push he had broken through the mist and was now back on the floor of Banica's room.

Venomania looked over to the sleeping face of his roommate, who showed no sign of stirring.

"I'm not certain that I want to go back to sleep so soon after that," he muttered, slipping out of the room and down the hall. He managed to push out from under his front door, and to the lawn, where the dream bubbles of his neighbors floated, tauntingly, just above.

"A little exploration cannot hurt," he said, making his way to a neighbor's house. "I will return straight home after."

The cloud that Venomania had entered seemed not to be a space at all, but rather a timeless, blank white that bleached an endless expanse. Every step into the white created a rippling effect beneath each footstep, much like water, and yet the "floor" that supported him was as ethereal, incomprehensible, and sublime as the rest of the area.

There was no sound, and yet in the back of his head, Venomania swore that he could hear the soft trickle of a stream somewhere far off. He searched for the source of the sound, turning his head in all directions and pacing- yet his footsteps made no sound, as if the white was absorbing any possible noise that may disturb the serenity.

Venomania steadied and continued forward, enjoying the quiet of the place. If this was what his neighbor dreamed of on a regular basis, he may have to interrupt her dreams more often for the peace.

With no way to track how far he had traveled, or if he had even moved from his spot, Venomania let his mind drift as he walked. He did not hear his friend catching up to him until her voice resonated in an echo behind him.

"Good evening, Sateriajis Venomania." Margarita Blankenheim's voice was cool in the airy expanse. "It isn't often that someone joins me in a dream." Venomania turned around to see his lovely, teal-haired neighbor, walking towards him in pigtails and a loose, white sleeping gown.

"Vanika had similar sentiments when I visited her dream," He said, bowing to the lady.

"Traveling so many dreams, Sateriajis…? I suppose her reasons for being alone are quite different than mine." Margarita gave him a little smile and curtsied in return. "I use dreams to create harmony within myself." She paused for a moment, and continued.

"It is calming to be welcomed to such a place each time I sleep. It takes away from the stresses of life…" Her voice trailed off, as if she wanted to say more, and she raised her forearms as if to show off the scenery, but there was nothing to be seen except pure white.

"It does have a calming effect," Venomania agreed, and yet, somehow the blankness of the dream was unnerving. "What exactly do you do in these dreams?"

Margarita sighed. "Nothing, really."

"Nothing at all? That must be terribly boring. My dreams are all very eventful in the most licentious of ways."

"It's not boring," Margarita yawned. "Just… quiet." Her eyes stared out into the white, unfocused and half-lidded.

"Well, would you care to take another walk?" Venomania offered an arm for her to take. Margarita shook her head and turned away.

"I'm rather tired. I will just…rest now." She sat down, folding her skirts neatly, and let her body relax. The space wrapped itself around her, cloaking the girl in a fine mist, like an insect sleeping in its cocoon. Her voice slurred with drowsiness, she managed to mumble, "Goodnight, Sateriajis," before surrendering herself to sleep.

Venomania gazed up at the neighboring empty house, wondering when someone would come to live there. Whatever sort of person they were, he did hope that they were full of passion and fire; someone who may break up the endless madness that surrounded his home and neighbors. Though politeness demanded his courtesies, Venomania could not help but think that having a pig-woman and narcoleptic for company did not add any sort of solace in his days.

Perhaps the only people to add variety to his days were his young friend, Rilliane, and boss, Gallerian Marlon.

Venomania clicked his heel and reasoned, "The night is still young, I think that I will visit Miss Rilliane. I am certain that she will be happy to have me in her dream." He gazed up at the night sky, and whistled. "Then I shall have to drop in on Gallerian, but that will not take up too much time. I will be back in my own dream cloud before the hour is up."

Venomania stepped into a dream of a golden palace, heels clicking on cream-colored marble tiles. High vaulted ceilings echoed the sound through the barren hall as he made his way over to another door on the opposing end. From behind the door he could hear chatter, like a ball was in progress.

"Perhaps I could just slip in," he said, cracking the door. However, once he has entered, all the heads of the room turned to look at him, giving him a startling surprise.

Everyone in the room looked exactly like Rilliane; they were copies wearing the same dresses.

Venomania bowed to them, feeling very self-conscious in his purple coat that stood out in the sea of yellow.

"Excuse me, is Miss Rilliane present?" A few of the clones looked to one another, and a few more turned around and pointed to the center of the room, where a little girl was sitting upon a gilded throne. Venomania scooted through the crowd, and up to the girl.

"Good evening, Miss Rilliane," he called. "Dreaming of being a Princess? I would expect no less of you, my dear. How does the crown suit you?"

The girl sighed and rested her cheek in her hand. Her aurous eyes looked fatigued, and stared off into the room without really seeing anything.

"I suppose it is well enough, Sateriajis, though this dream tires me to no end."

"You cannot possibly be bored, Rilliane!" Venomania was incredulous, and stood beside the girl. "With so many copies of yourself, by your standard there's no end to the pleasure of staying in good company!" The girl whipped her head around, glaring at him with murder in her eyes.

"Foolish, impudent man!" She was screaming at him, and had risen from her throne. "Stupid, stupid man!" Her voice broke and she sank back into her chair, staring into the room again with misty eyes.

"They are not… they are my-" Rilliane's voice faltered and she was silent again.

Venomania looked back out at the crowd of Rillianes. He squinted his eyes and looked back and forth between Rilliane and them.

Perhaps, yes, there was something different about them from the girl.

The young girl on the throne was glaring at him again.

" _Get. Out."_

The next dream bubble that Venomania entered was very different than the previous ones. Immediately upon entering, a stifling, molten heat invaded his body, permeating through his coat and shirt to soak his skin with sweat. The terrain around him was rocky, broken, craggy, dark, and clouded in the steam from natural hot air vents. The only light source that illuminated the place was various fires burning of their own accord. No light from above reached this land, as if it were totally underground.

Even more curious, there were no people to be seen, but instead the place was populated with little imps carrying crates to different areas, grumbling in some foreign tongue. Venomania stopped one of them to ask where he might find Gallerian Marlon, when one of them hissed at him.

"I suppose I shall just have to find him myself, then." He shook his head in disdain at the rudeness.

Over this volcanic land was a glass and stone block, supported by stacks of shaped rocks and one of the cliff-like structures of the terrain. A metal ladder led up to the box.

"If anywhere, Gallerian would be up there, it would seem." Venomania scratched his chin. "And even if he is not, I am certain that whoever oversees this operation will be able to direct me to him." He scaled the ladder and, once at the top, brushed the soot from his coat. There was a rusty, metal door on the side of the box, where he knocked thrice.

A surly Gallerian Marlon opened the door, busy counting coins in his hands, with a cigar between his teeth. When he saw who was at the door, he scowled.

"Come in, Venomania, since you're already here," he frowned, and moved out of the way. Venomania entered and sat at a chair across from Marlon's desk. When he did so, Marlon's frowned deepened.

"Yes,  _do_  sit down," he motioned, with certain sarcasm in his voice. He returned to his desk and resumed counting, while Venomania drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

"Quiet," Marlon hissed, flicking his eyes at the purple gentleman. "I'm busy, so hurry and state your business."

Venomania smiled and straightened in the chair. "I have no business here, Gallerian. I was simply dropping by for a moment." Marlon's facial muscles jerked in irritation with the use of his given name.

"Venomania, as I am your employer, it would be wise to refrain from calling me by my first name. Unless you wish to be fired." He bit one of the gold coins he was counting, and then tossed it to the corner. Ashes from the cigar in his mouth fell onto the table, and he tore the thing from his mouth in anger.

"Damn!" He shouted, slamming his fist onto the table. "Think that they can fool me with their false gold, do they? I'll teach them to meddle so." He stood from the chair and strode over to the door, throwing it open, and yelling someone's name into the blazing cavern. An especially fat little imp teetered over to him, and Marlon bent down to give him instructions. The imp bowed and then ran off, terrified of his overseer.

Back at his desk, Marlon folded his hands in his lap. "As much as you may think your presence is so wonderful for me, Venomania, I'm afraid that you are completely mistaken. As I said earlier, I am busy. There is no time for guests."

"Just what sort of operation do you have here, G-ah, Mr. Marlon?"

"A lucrative one. I take advantage of those who have sinned on Earth by sending them demons to keep them company. The fools are advised to pay monetary offerings to appease the spirits. They bring the profits back to me, and I free the sinners from their demons. At least, until they sin again." Marlon's mouth twisted into a cruel smile and he pointed to the safe on the side of the wall. "I've made a  _killing_  here."

"And… where exactly is 'here?'"

"Why, in Hell. Where else?" Marlon laughed.

Venomania raised an eyebrow. "But the money made is no good. What can you possibly buy with it?" His words sent a surge of anger into his superior.

"No good? You really are an idiotic man, Sateriajis Venomania." The blue-haired man crossed his arms. "I am paying the Devil to bring my daughter back to life."

"Yo-you cannot be serious, Gallerian." Marlon's jaw muscle twitched again with the second use of his name.

"I'm very serious. And if you continue to insult this business, I'll have you removed. And removed from your office during the day, too." Venomania sighed and rose from his chair.

"Very well, I will be on my way."

He exited the overseeing box and descended to the base of the cavern, back where he entered the dream bubble from one of the cliffs. From across the way he could see Marlon staring out one of the windows, watching him. He raised his hand in recognition, and then exited the cloud.

Across the road, another dream cloud was in progress, peeking out the window of a small house.

"It would be wise for me to return to my own dream cloud," Venomania admitted, "but I cannot help wondering what Miss Kayo is dreaming of."

An autumn breeze brushed leaves across a cobbled road, and picked up flyaway strands of Venomania's hair, sending them dancing in the breeze. A quaint Japanese village was before him, cheerful and comfortably busy.

"Miss Kayo's dream seems the most pleasant of all," Venomania said, waving to a group of women tending a flower shop.

"Excuse me, ladies," he said, as they stared at his strange clothing. "Do you know where I might find a Miss Kayo? Kayo Sudou?"

A middle-aged woman watering a pot of flowers smiled, and little creases formed in the corners of her eyes.

"Miss Sudou lives across the way. She makes kimono for everyone. Have you come to see her talent? There's absolutely no one who can compete with her." She resumed her watering, humming a tune. The two other ladies nodded in unison.

"Miss Sudou is so very kind," said one of them. "And very beautiful," added the other. "We love her very much.  _Everyone loves her."_

Venomania patted one of the women on the shoulder. "Thank you, dear. I will go see her right away. I am very curious about her work." He crossed the street and knocked on the door of a little shop with a sign that read "Enbizaka Tailor." If he hadn't been directed here, he almost would not have noticed that the shop was open; the inside was dark and the curtains were drawn.

A pink-haired woman in a red kimono and green obi answered the door. "May I help you?" Her voice was soft, and she seemed not to see who it was, because her hair covered most of her face, which was turned almost all the way to the ground.

"Miss Kayo, I understand that you are an experienced kimono maker. I have come to see your wares." The tailor's head tilted up in recognition of the voice.

"Sateriajis? You have come to my dream…?" A little smile brightened her face.

"Indeed. I was in the neighborhood, and I wanted to stop by. May I come in?"

"Your boots," she said, eyeing the thigh-high leather shoes. "Leave them in the entryway." She moved back inside and sat down at a very low table, where she was drinking a cup of tea. She set another cup down for her guest, who joined her after removing his shoes.

"You would not believe the strange places I have been tonight, Miss Kayo. Our friends really have such strange dreams! Had I known yours was so calming, I would have come her first, instead of last. No matter." He took a sip of the tea as Kayo watched him.

"I am… the last?" Her voice sounded strangely distant.

"Indeed. Gallerian's dream was especially strange. I think the man is delusional, trying to bring back that 'daughter' of his." Kayo tilted her head.

"He is not very kind." Venomania hummed in agreement.

"He never much has time for my company. It is really so very sad."

"I have time for you, Sateriajis." Kayo's eyes glittered.

"Yes. Thank you, dear." Venomania put a hand on her head and she seemed to relish this contact. "I will be sure to visit your dreams much more often, and stay for longer than this time."

Kayo tilted her head again. "You are leaving?"

"Yes. I must return to my dream cloud, I am afraid." Kayo did not seem to like these words.

"Please wait here for a moment," she said, her voice even. "I have something." She left the table, and went into one of the back rooms.

Venomania stretched his shoulders and glanced around the room. On a side door there was a little slip of paper that read "KIMONO STORAGE."

He did think that the little shop was well kept, and that Kayo had a pleasant world to occupy in her dreams. He rose and went to the door, curious to get a look at her work. He was even tempted to purchase one, if any were for sale.

The storage door was heavy to push, and Venomania struggled to slide the door open. When the path was clear, he saw why.

On the floor of the closet were the corpses of a man, woman, and child.

From behind him, Kayo clicked her tongue.

"Oh. Is there something the matter, Beloved?" Venomania spun around, and took a step back, only to realize he was being herded into the closet. Kayo was wielding a pair of rusty, metal scissors.

"You really can't leave, Beloved. But do not worry,  _it is only a dream_."

The path was blocked. A bead of sweat dripped off Venomania's brow.

"N-Nightmare."

 


End file.
